


roll like thunder, burn like stars

by bunnyctzen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, a lot of travelling, mentions of jeno and yukhei, the end is worth the means
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28277826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyctzen/pseuds/bunnyctzen
Summary: minhyung sets out on a long journey to find his missing pieces.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Na Jaemin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66
Collections: the misfits' holiday exchange





	roll like thunder, burn like stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tinywriterfairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinywriterfairy/gifts).



> for my dearest mel~
> 
> there's really no sense pretending i'm someone else in this a/n because we all know i'm the only one who would write this for u but i want u to know that i love u so so much and i really hope that i took your prompt somewhere you'll enjoy, even if it's only for a small while!! you are such an incredibly wonderful person, and i'm so lucky to know you and call you a friend. 
> 
> inspired by far too many fantasy novels and games that u may or may not find references to!!
> 
> warning:  
> there is a brief mention of a giant spider

“i wouldn’t stray too close to those woods, boy. legend says a nasty creature guards them, and you’re as good as gone two steps in.”

“yah, if ye can even get past that damned fog. thick as mud down in ‘em parts. can’t tell left from north.” 

“one hell of a beast. heard it’s a wolf with five heads, and a howl you can hear two towns over.”

a bearded man, hunched over and far too drunk, slams his stein of ale down on the table before him. the liquid sloshes over its rim and seeps down the cracked wood below. 

“again with that same story, aye? everyone knows ‘at ‘ol thing moves around on six legs ‘n rips ‘e flesh off the bones of anyone who dares to cross it. quick as lightning.” 

minhyung takes another small bite of his half-charred chicken thigh, and spares a glance out the window. 

perhaps choosing this particular table was a mistake. 

he cares little for entertaining gossip, but it’s a chore he has to endure if he’s to carry on with his research. after all, he’s tracking down a creature of legends. 

it pays to listen. 

“i ‘ere it’s a skinwalker. beady little eyes, ‘n claws sharp as knives. could be any sorry fella that washes up ‘round these parts.” 

the man closest to minhyung is slender-set, and his eyes lay half sunken into his skull. sallow grey skin, and thin cracked lips.

“like you.” 

minhyung’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head quickly. 

the tips of his fingers begin to burn. 

“not me, sir. i needed somewhere to rest for the night, but i’m only passing through. i mean no trouble, and i’ll be gone by sunrise.”

three men stare him down with cold eyes hardened from a lifetime of battles and treacherous paths. travelled souls who have seen the world and all of its ugliest parts. 

“you sure, boy? better bet your boots you ain’t lyin’.” 

minhyung nods. 

he’s not hungry anymore, and the longer he sits here, the warmer he feels himself getting. it’s been a long night already, and he isn’t keen on making a scene. 

it’s time to go. 

he picks up what’s left of his food, bows curtly to the men at the table, and places it down at the side of the bar that connects to the kitchen. sends an apologetic smile to the overworked barmaid behind it for leaving so much behind, and is on his way. 

the stairs at the back of the tavern that lead up to the inn are creaky and warped like they’ve seen decades of use, and the walls are decorated with eerie landscape paintings. places, though he’s well travelled, that minhyung has never seen before. 

perhaps he’s projecting a sense of loneliness onto them. after all, he ought to not stay in any one place for too long, or become too friendly with anyone before he finds what he’s looking for. 

companionship is volatile—he’s a disaster merely biding its time. 

everything he touches is at risk of being destroyed. 

once he reaches his room, minhyung locks the door behind him, and promptly opens the window to let the evening breeze in. 

he steps toward it and sheds his cloak. 

holds his palms to the moonlight, and closes his eyes to take a deep breath. 

the open air leeches the heat from his skin, and the smell of pine hits his nose. 

he is safe for tonight.

minhyung _knows_ he must make a stop at those eerie fabled woods. 

he doesn’t risk staying for breakfast at the tavern to keep good on his word to the men he sat with last night, even though they were likely too drunk to remember him in the morning. 

instead, as soon as he’s properly awoken, he heads out to the stables to fetch his horse so he can finally be on his way. 

they’ve stayed in worse places.

endura sniffs approvingly at the sight of him, and shakes the hay off of her pearly coat. he owes her a grooming, and they both know it. 

unfortunately, it’s a task that lies a couple stables out from where they are now. they still have a lot of land to cover before they’ve earned another break, and minhyung still has to see this creature with his own eyes. 

thus, he leads her out of the stable, feeds her the last handful of berries in his pack, and finally they’re on their way. 

anyone with a lick of sense between their ears would know to keep their distance from such dangerous places. beaten paths are well-travelled for a reason—they're safe. 

minhyung, however, has little to fear when confronting monsters. 

there are legends about him, too. 

a fire-breathing beast from the reaches of the east, up where the mountains boil and spew molten earth toward the ground below. 

thin and long with gnashing teeth and red scales. 

the tall tales that have accumulated over the past few centuries certainly haven’t done him any favours. in fact, it has become near impossible to find a credible source on any of the kingdom’s fantastical creatures. 

there is at least _some_ basis of truth to the fables of his origins. 

minhyung is indeed the fire dragon from the east reaches—his true form is one that soars through the air and bathes freely in flames. magnificent horns, and a tail as long as day. 

though he has come to call the volcanic region home over the past handful of centuries, it feels far more like banishment than choice. 

his story begins elsewhere, and it’s as old as time itself.

four nature spirits came to be before all other things.

minhyung, the guardian of fire, blessed the hearth and home. kings sought his guidance to protect their armies in times of war.

jeno, guardian of the earth, blessed the harvest and fruitful hunting seasons. his protection spread to every living creature in the land, and nurtured new life and growth. 

jaemin, the ice guardian, kept water pure and rain plentiful. he protected the land from the harshest of winter’s edges, and blessed travel through the mountains. 

finally, the magick guardian yukhei protected all fantastical creatures in the land, and blessed the craft of those who practised it. 

the land’s people came to them in times of trouble, and the balance of all living things kept harmoniously in their care. 

in turn, they also kept each other safe and well. 

the four of them, in a way, were parts of a grander whole. 

inseparable, and eternally bound. 

jaemin and jeno’s spring was nothing short of a work of art—stunning blossoms, and lush trees that gave home to the life of the forest. 

minhyung and yukhei saw to the creation of magical creatures beyond imagination, and helped the most glorious of structures to be forged throughout the kingdom. 

many centuries of peace passed—years that felt timeless and blissful. 

kings rose to power and fell. 

it took only one of them to tear down the entire kingdom.

a pitiful man born to wickedness who could never feel satisfied, and a ruling that knew no other way but to bend to his every will and whim.

it began with war at the kingdom's borders; destroying century old relationships in favour of exploiting resources for his own personal gain, and mongering fear among his citizens.

onward came the hunt of magical creatures for their medicinal properties rumoured to make humans akin to the gods.

battalions grew stronger and more land was conquered, but it _still_ wasn’t enough.

the tyrannical leader wanted to be invincible. 

infallible. 

immortal. 

in order to become the most powerful man in all the land, the king needed to kill the dragons. harvest them for their elements and immortality, and strip his people of the last thing they believed in. 

they were far too vulnerable together, so once word got out that their home was no longer safe, the dragons knew they needed to flee. 

to this day, centuries later, that was the last minhyung saw of them. 

he’s heard rumours, of course. 

word still reaches even the most barren of wastelands, and especially regarding something so important to the nation’s people as the dragons. 

only a mere few years into hiding, minhyung learned of jeno’s death. 

rumours that yukhei was next. 

the years began to blend together soon after, the more minhyung lost himself. 

humans that once revered the dragons changed their tune. 

the king got his way, and turned his people against them—fear and hatred spread through the kingdom like a plague, and all hope of minhyung reuniting with the others was lost. 

in present day, a safe number of years after minhyung learned of the treacherous king’s passing, he knows that the only thing that will save him from himself is finding answers. 

learning of yukhei, the most hopeful of all of them. 

of his dearest jaemin who always kept him from burning too brightly and setting himself aflame. 

without them, minhyung knows he is nothing. 

he has little to live for if he is unable to find his missing pieces and stitch himself back together.

minhyung knows he must search every corner of the land for them if it is the last thing he can do. 

nothing stops him but the limits of his human form and time. 

minhyung has sorely missed the smell of the forest.

it tugs at the strings of his heart, feeling the mist all around him and the crunch of gravel under his feet. luscious greenery and the skittering of small creatures through the brush. 

all things that were designed in jeno’s own image—he finds comfort in these details. 

in a way, this is all minhyung has left of him, and he feels him all around. 

if he confides his heart to the soul of the forest, in a way, minhyung knows jeno will hear him. it’s enough to comfort him along his journey, and soothe the more raw edges of his spirit.

the path he’s chosen is quite difficult for endura to traverse on her own, so instead minhyung walks with her on a lead over the thick underbrush.

he isn’t entirely sure what he’s supposed to be looking for out here, or if this creature of legends really exists at all, but he knows he must pursue every fragment of information he is given in hopes that it’ll lead him somewhere more useful. 

minhyung doesn’t expect he’ll find jaemin or yukhei in this forest. 

perhaps he will come across someone who has seen them, though, and that will have to be enough. 

quite some time passes before minhyung finds anything notable in the forest.

in fact, when he happens upon the first signs of a dwelling place, the fog glows golden in wake of the setting sun. 

timing is rather convenient—endura needs somewhere to rest for the night, and minhyung’s feet have long grown sore. 

he dearly hopes he’ll be welcomed, or at the very least safely sheltered for the night ahead. 

as they approach a battered down cabin, however, minhyung still doesn’t find himself any more convinced that its owner resides within it. 

it’s more than clear that someone _has_ before now; the surrounding forest is littered with tree stumps and foot paths, and the cabin’s cracked windows have painted shutters at their sides. 

well worn, but painted all the same. 

minhyung knocks on a door that barely clings to its hinges.

at first, there is no response—he dares to peek through the windows for any sign of life within. 

no light comes through. 

he knocks once more. 

were this cabin truly abandoned, would it be of ill manner to take shelter inside?

the wind has grown awfully cold. 

after enough time has passed that he is fully convinced the cabin is empty, minhyung takes the time to secure endura for the night under a shelter that likely once held firewood. 

these accommodations are only scarcely safer than the tavern, but it will be enough. 

when he turns around to head back to the cabin, however, he nearly jumps out of his skin. 

eight ruby-red eyes peer at minhyung curiously. 

cautiously. 

the door to the cabin is open, and from within it has emerged a rather grandiose arachnid. 

ah. 

minhyung’s grasp on their customary language has slipped over the past few millennia. 

still, he tries the best he is able to with his human mouth. 

“ _my sincerest apologies for intruding, i didn’t sense that anyone was home_.” he admits a tad sheepishly. “ _i was merely seeking a place to rest for the night. i’ll be on my way though, now that i see this is spot is not mine to claim_.”

“ _nonsense, traveller. there is much room.”_

_“are you sure? i don’t mean to impose.”_

minhyung finds it difficult to properly decipher the faint chittering noise the arachnid makes. perhaps it was a laugh.

“ _rest assured, i am always happy to host guests. please, follow me inside and make yourself at home.”_

though the arachnid tries their best to be accommodating, minhyung still must push past ample webbing and debris to make his way to the resting quarters of the cabin. 

light inside is rather scarce, and the air is stale. 

he must refuse the provisions he is offered out of a sense of self preservation—though he’s eaten far more questionable looking meals in other forms, his human stomach is weak. 

minhyung has never grown to appreciate the fine cuisine of insect innards. 

instead, he opts to press for the information he’d come into this forest seeking. 

he asks the arachnid if a dragon has passed through these parts before now, or if they have heard any news of one in the surrounding area. 

much to his disappointment, minhyung fears his attempts are rather futile. 

to arachnids, time is non-linear. 

they are wise creatures, but they weave their stories like the threads of their webs, and rarely note helpful anecdotes. 

the arachnid knows of minhyung’s kind, and verbalizes that they sensed such an aura on him. that they either have known or _will_ know dragons.

it’s extremely difficult to determine if that conclusion is based on experience or speculation. 

instead, minhyung allows himself to feed his curiosity and subtly investigate his surroundings. 

a human had certainly lived here before, even in spite of the disrepair the arachnid has allowed the cabin to fall into. 

the belongings they left behind are plentiful, as if they never intended to have left. 

as if, perhaps, they were forced to leave on short notice, or suddenly disappeared. 

bookshelves line the walls and artwork, though decrepit, decorates the room rather pleasantly. though minhyung only has the light of a sole candle against faint moonlight to guide him through the cabin, he knows it would surely be a stunning sight. 

thankfully there is spare bedding to be found in a linen closet—he’s quite sure the arachnid won’t be needing it, and it gives him an excuse to politely excuse himself from hearing the end of the strange tale he’s being told. 

minhyung has gotten absolutely nowhere with his questions, and the ticking of a lone clock lulls him into a state of ease, so he decides to retire for the night in hope of catching some decent sleep for the road ahead. 

perhaps tomorrow’s continued search will prove to be more fruitful.

minhyung knows he must travel lightly on his journey to the farthest reaches of the land, but perhaps there are a few exceptions to this rule. 

things he cannot help but to bring along with him. 

currency, for starters. 

provisions. 

a vibrant collection of writing quills, and a treasured notebook. 

even when the world around him feels dull and empty and horribly vast, a tin full of the most exotic and breathtaking feathers is there to greet him when he needs it most.

sometimes he finds them at the stables and inns he stays at along his path, while other times he allows himself a bit of a detour to browse the wares of specialty markets. 

he’s sure endura doesn’t mind the extra bit of time to rest her hooves before they continue on their journey. 

in fact, minhyung is more than accustomed to mainly living off the land while he travels. 

a portion of his currency goes toward fees at resting spots and whatever food he is unable to gather on his own, but the rest is for his quills. 

he finds himself at a rather eccentric shoppe full of oddities and ends, and its charming keeper eyes him eagerly.

a lavender quill lays before minhyung, elegant and curiously shaped. 

its particular length has minhyung believing it may be a tail feather, but it certainly doesn’t belong to any bird he has ever seen. 

an aura of magick seems to surround it, and minhyung knows he can’t pass up the opportunity of such a rare find. 

the tips of his fingers itch at the very thought of adding it to his collection—it’s been so very long since he’s been in the presence of magick, and the distant familiarity in the feeling is akin to meeting an old friend.

“you’ve quite the eye for luxury,” the keeper muses. “this particular specimen is no common find. in fact, i guarantee you’ll never see another like it in your travels.”

“oh?”

“mm. i’ve been saving it for just the right buyer. a pair of good hands i can trust to hand it over to.”

minhyung isn’t horribly weighed down by coins at the moment, so he grows a little unsettled. 

perhaps he won’t be able to afford this quill. 

“something tells me that you just may own the hands i’m looking for, though. i sense that you’re not like my other customers.”

minhyung bites his lip to stave off a small laugh. 

if only the shopkeeper knew.

“perhaps i am not. this quill, though, what is it valued at?”

the man studies him. 

“for you, twelve silver.”

minhyung can’t help but gasp. 

“only twelve?”

“aren’t you, as a customer, supposed to be bartering for a lower price instead of questioning my bargain?”

“surely you cannot get by as a curator of such rare finds with these prices. i paid more to board my horse two days ago.”

this time, it is the keeper who laughs. 

“i told you, traveller. there’s something different about you, and i’ve been holding onto this quill for far too long. i’m happy to part with it now that i know it’s found a worthy home.”

minhyung reaches for the pouch in his breast pocket hesitantly. 

“just... twelve? you’re sure?”

sincerely, the shopkeeper nods. 

“you remind me of someone rather dear to me that i once knew. consider it a gift in good faith and fond spirits.”

on occasion, minhyung has good days. 

far too frequently, however, he has difficult ones. 

it feels incredibly frustrating for minhyung to admit that another month’s worth of research has led him to a dead end. 

well, several dead ends. 

hope is the only thing driving him forward, but it’s a rather fickle thing. it needs to be fed in order to stay strong, and easily withers under harsh conditions. 

minhyung isn’t new to travelling, nor this horribly strenuous search. 

in the moonlight, he dips his toes into a shallow stream, and lets himself listen to the crickets in the grass around him. 

he’s reached somewhat of a breaking point. 

the land he must traverse is vast and ever-stretching, and though he swears he’s left not a single stone unturned in his wake, no step leads him closer to what he seeks. 

minhyung is fed up with the ground below his feet, and disdainful of the sky above. 

the earth feels far too cold, some days. 

lifeless. 

last night, he overheard the tavern vermin tell a horrifically bastardized tale of the dragons, and the way each of them met their end. 

what he finds most difficult of all is that he can’t be certain of what’s true or false. 

minhyung already spends his every waking minute wondering if he’s the only guardian of the four who made it out alive.

things were never meant to be this way. 

none of them deserved this.

when minhyung wakes from where he set up camp in the forest, it’s to a bed of flames. 

ash weighs heavy in his lungs, and endura surely was spooked enough to run off, because she’s nowhere to be found.

he’s alone. 

minhyung is alone, and he cannot stop himself from destroying once more. 

fire shows no mercy. 

it grows greedy, and it endlessly consumes. 

only death lies in its wake.

perhaps it is sheer desperation that drives minhyung forward at this point of his journey.

on a rather rough patch of terrain, he grips endura’s charred saddle to hold himself secure. 

without drive to push forward, what does he have?

some dozen writing quills in a tin, and a broken heart. 

he knows he’s become a horrible creature. 

minhyung knows he is capable of terrible things, and every waking moment he fears he’ll break something that can’t be fixed.

he rides on—there is simply no other option. 

through sheer chance, minhyung finds a collection of maps in the lounge of an inn, and he reassesses his progress.

as someone who all but sculpted the very earth he traverses, minhyung considers himself to be well versed in the lay of the land before him. 

perhaps, though, the blindness of frustration has caused a few instances of oversight, because it is only through starting from the beginning again that gives him his answer. 

a spot he never considered to try looking in. 

well, rather, somewhere minhyung until this point had _hoped_ he would never have to go.

he’s quite sure that the harsh climate will take a toll on his body, and he knows he’ll have to traverse it on foot instead of enlisting endura’s help.

he wills anything good left in this world that it will prove to be worth the strain. 

tomorrow, he rides for the north reaches. 

minhyung cannot remember the last time he touched snow. 

it has surely been centuries—certainly long enough that he finds it excruciatingly difficult to adjust to the extreme climate of the northern mountain range.

as a last ditch attempt to find the missing parts needed to make himself whole again, minhyung bundles up and wades through snow and steep earth. 

for jeno and yukhei.

for jaemin, who is the only dragon that would choose this mountain to spend the rest of his days, and his own heart.

in times of self-reflection, minhyung knows he has let himself stray far too close to the edge of what holds him together.

without balance, he loses control. 

if he has any hope of finding yukhei, minhyung knows he must first find jaemin.

without ice to soothe it, fire will consume everything in its reach, and burn, burn, _burn_ until nothing remains.

without jaemin, minhyung loses himself. 

he is nothing. 

the snow helps him think—perhaps a little _too_ much. 

even for an open area full of moving air, the mountain is shrouded in a stifling silence.

minhyung’s thoughts are louder than they are in their own right to be, and his toes feel numb. 

he carries on because he must. 

by the time minhyung reaches the mid-way point of the tallest mountain, he has hit a wall of exhaustion. 

it’s quite clear now that he under-packed for this excursion, as his skin grows to be cracked and red, and his provisions run out two days early. the sun may even have risen and set more than that, or perhaps less, but he dares not risk frostbite to break out one of his quills to keep track. 

minhyung is lucky enough to find a deep enough cave that he can escape from the gruelling snowstorm outside to pass the night in, so he sets up the pathetic excuse of a camp he is able to make and settles in as comfortably as he can.

he has grown so cold that not even a single spark will leave his fingertips. 

violent shivers wrack his body as he lets his consciousness slip. 

asleep, minhyung drifts.

it feels like he’s been carried away to a far off place, and he can’t quite get his footing. like everything he reaches out to touch liquefies before he can hold it in the palm of his hand.

in his most vivid and coherent dream, he lies on a soft bed wrapped in blankets. 

he tries to will his consciousness to spend most of his time there, if he can help it. 

reality is far worse. 

it is most senseless to even attempt grasping how much time has passed since he first set foot on this mountain, and minhyung knows this.

he rubs his eyes as he rises from sleep, and hopes that when he opens them he still has all of his fingers and toes. 

minhyung smells... fire. 

when he finally wakes, he struggles to process his surroundings. 

his heavenly dream of the soft bed and warm blankets had perhaps, to his great confusion, not been a dream at all. 

minhyung runs his fingers along the fabric, and wiggles his toes. 

he looks around the room, and is greeted by vivid splays of colour. 

book spines. 

stacked in towers in the corners of the room, and lined across shelves along the walls.

he doesn’t know how he got here, but it is most _certainly_ real. 

as soon as he is able, minhyung gets out of bed and sits cross legged on the floor beside the fire. 

he’s warm.

soothed.

minhyung finds himself most nervous to meet his host, whenever they return.

he owes them his life.

were it not for the fire before him, minhyung is quite certain he may have met his end on this mountain.

this stranger deserves anything they desire, if it is within his power to grant it.

he waits.

some few hours later, the cabin’s owner returns from the cold.

the living space is small enough that minhyung can see the front door from the fireplace at which he sits, and nerves collect at the pit of his stomach.

he owes this person a great debt.

minhyung seeks to verbalize this, too, but is stopped in his tracks at the sight of his rescuer and rendered absolutely speechless.

his host appears to share the feeling.

at first, all minhyung can do is stare.

silence hangs heavy in the room around them, and the tension is palpable.

minhyung would know those cold, icy eyes anywhere. the warmth that hides behind them.

"it's really you," jaemin whispers in disbelief.

a thousand words catch in minhyung's throat—hundreds of years have been leading up to this moment, and never for a second had he prepared himself for it.

it doesn't _feel_ real. 

surely it can't be, but is he not sitting in front of a radiating fire? feeling the warmth of its flames against his back with wood flooring digging rather uncomfortably into his bones?

"it's... really me." he answers. 

jaemin saved him from the cold and his own idiocy, and dragged minhyung up that cursed and unforgiving mountain to safety. 

things are silent for a moment longer as jaemin hangs up his outerwear and removes his boots. 

emotion sits heavily on minhyung's chest merely watching him perform these simple actions. he spent so many nights looking up to the stars and wishing the worst had not come for him. that he would never have to endure another tragedy, and jaemin would be safe and well. 

"i can't remember the last time i lit a fire," jaemin admits, now sitting across from minhyung. "if you'd believe it, i honestly worried i wouldn't be able to find the right materials to do so, or if i'd even remember how."

the twinge of embarrassment in his tone is enough to tug at minhyung's heartstrings.

oh, minhyung has missed him terribly. 

"you've always been reckless, minhyung, haven't you? almost freezing to death on my mountain out of stubbornness."

minhyung could never have let himself forget jaemin's smile—it eases his very soul in the way it always has. 

"surely you would have done the same for me," minhyung counters, unable to contain a smile of his own. 

"perhaps."

it's minhyung that reaches out first. to brush fingertips over soft skin on the inside of jaemin's wrist, and guide him closer. 

close enough that he can count snowflakes on jaemin's eyelashes, and see silver speckled across his irises. the hint of warmth on his cheeks. 

cool breath against his skin. 

minhyung raises his hand to lay it flat over jaemin's heart, and he focuses intently to feel its rhythm. 

jaemin presses his forehead against minhyung's own, and closes his eyes. wraps his arm around minhyung's back, and draws him closer yet. 

for the first time in centuries, they embrace. 

jaemin's skin is so incredibly cold to the touch, but it does not shake minhyung. 

he only holds him closer, presses his face into the crook of jaemin's neck, and fills his lungs to let out a contented sigh. 

"have you finally warmed up, now?" 

minhyung has come a long way from the volcanic reaches, embracing the very essence of ice. 

his skin numbs where it makes contact with jaemin's own, and a chill runs down his spine. 

he would endure thousands of years of this feeling. 

tomorrow, perhaps, they may plan to continue their search for yukhei. 

share their stories and adventures.

remember jeno, and hold each other through their shared pain. 

together, they can conquer anything. 

they have time. 

"mm. i've never felt warmer."

**Author's Note:**

> (for the record all of the dragons, as dragons do, collect things that bring them comfort!! for mark it's quills, and jaemin has books. i think jeno would've collected some really cool rocks, and yukhei was extremely into textiles!!)
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/xingowo) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/xingowo) ♡


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